Now that Valentine’s
Day has come and gone, leaving edible luxury and excess calories in its
wake, let’s consider volume, not weight. Sure, it’s the season for
turnips, not tulips, but that shouldn’t mean passing on anything vegetal
until summer solstice. Where are some of Portland’s best big salads?

You know, a salad
that would make Elaine Benes proud: an abundance of lettuce as base,
along with crisp vegetables (tomatoes should not resemble snowballs),
cheese, nuts and some sort of protein. Dressing on the side, please: A
salad drowning in it is disgusting (and counterproductive).

After all, doesn’t love mean never having to say, “Honey, maybe you should try the next size up?”

French women don’t get fat. As I wait 25 minutes for my
salmon salad ($11.95) to emerge from the kitchen, I develop my theory
why: They harvest the lettuce while you clutch at your napkin in dire,
pleading American hunger, looking longingly at the nearby bar that
serves excellent nachos. When my salad finally arrives, however, I am
ecstatic to discover (and quickly devour) a Wiffle bat-sized piece of
salmon atop a huge bed of greens, along with perfectly cooked lentils
and a tasty but somewhat incongruous raspberry vinaigrette tucked
alongside. It’s a great deal—if you’re patient.

I’d been tipped to Pizzicato’s varied salad
selections—everything from an arugula pear to a Chinese chopped, and
went for the Greek salad. When I called ahead to order it, I was told a
small could feed one or two, and a medium could handle three or four. I
know my capacity; I got the medium ($8.25) for myself. This was the only
salad I got to go, and was glad to be massacring it in the privacy of
my own kitchen: The salad is crammed with excellent feta and olives, but
its lettuce isn’t chopped into even remotely bite-sized portions.

KENNY & ZUKE’S DELICATESSEN

1038 SW Stark St., 222-3354; kennyandzukes.com.

Is the big salad an East or West Coast craving? Who knows,
but K&Z’s offers a salad billed as “The Big Salad.” So can it bring
the big? Yes and no. Yes in that it comes in a big bowl. Yes in that
the accommodating server lets me swap the bagel crisps for avocado. Yes
with a lox add-on feathered across the top. Yes in price, too, for what I
got: $11.45. Sure, the lox is done perfectly and the salad is crisp,
but I got fuller elsewhere.

RED ONION THAI CUISINE

1123 NW 23rd Ave., 208-2634.

Seeking salad surprises, I ventured to
this Northwest staple for Thai salad with shrimp ($10). The mixed
greens, still-warm hard-boiled egg, bean sprouts, red onion and raw,
white mushrooms are artfully presented, with a delicious bowl of peanut
sauce on the side, but it’s not something I’d get again. Bor-ing. How
did I go here and not get something with fragrant, hot noodles or one of
the excellent options off the Northern Thai specials menu? I sought a
menu sleeper—and got a misorder. My bad.

JADE TEAHOUSE

7912 SE 13th Ave., 477-8985, jadeportland.com.

I’m physically incapable of ordering anything but the
spicy green papaya salad ($9) at Jade Teahouse. Shame, because so much
looks delicious, including the enormous grilled tofu salad (large $7),
bricklike pieces of tofu stacked atop a mess of fresh greens. But the
papaya salad—a julienned pile of carrots, tart papaya, tomatoes, shrimp
and green beans—continually mesmerizes me. Also: It comes with sweet
rice. How do you know your salad is big? When it gets its own side dish.

BLOSSOMING LOTUS

1713 NE 15th Ave., 228-0048, blpdx.com.

Who knows salads better than vegans? Yet I was surprised
to see just three on all-vegan Blossoming Lotus’ lunch menu, with only
one more added at dinner time. The roasted beet and curried cashew salad
($9) came prettily presented on a plate, the beets slick with sweetness
but not overpowering, and cashew sour cream more delicious than the
dairyfied version. If you’re really hungry, though, do what I did: Get
the generous sides of avocado ($2) and tofu ($3), but ask them to add
them to the salad so your table isn’t clogged with plates like mine.
Because I looked like a really big pig—ahem—over-enthusiastic herbivore.

I eye my Niçoise salad ($10.25) with delight. It looks
like a big salad should—big hunk of tuna, non-mealy tomatoes, a scoop of
Yukon gold potatoes, brilliant green haricots vert, a thorough base of
greens. When it arrives, the bowl appears small, but that’s only an
optical illusion. As I’m plowing through this delicious and pleasantly
filling lunch, I’m wondering if it’s being continually refilled somehow
and I’m part of a psychology experiment. St. Honoré, you salad minx. Who
knew?